Blue
by Adrenaline Write
Summary: A collection of drabbles/oneshots featuring the blue bloods of the wizarding world. Slight OOC-ness may occur.
1. Nostalgia

Bellatrix Black was not a sentimental woman.

The sentence bounced fervently through her brain as she examined the decrepit, hollow building that was Black Manor. She strode recklessly to the drawing room, with its curled, fading wallpaper. Her fingers trailed across the familiar names and faces. Cygnus, Druella, Bellatrix, Narcissa...Andromeda.

Her filthy blood traitor sister's eyes bore into hers, and she could feel the satisfaction bubbling in her blood as she pulled her wand from her robes, sending a curse towards Andromeda's spot of the tapestry.

A wicked smile crept to her face as she watched tendrils of smoke rise from the charred wallpaper.

"Much better," Bellatrix spat, her heels clacking against the floor as she exited the room. She felt her foot catch on something soft.

Her body slammed into the marble floor with a start, and she cursed between clenched teeth. Bellatrix's gaze swept around the floor, wondering what had caused her fall.

The saddest teddy best she had ever seen sat huddled outside the doorway.

Bellatrix uttered a breathy, cold laugh as she examined the thing.

Its eyes had long since fallen off, the stuffing spilling out of its sides. There were even maggots swarming along the decaying ears.

Andromeda's bear. Bellatrix could tell from the sloppy 'A' on its stomach. She held the thing to her her chest, remembering the day Andromeda had tried the engraving spell, and how proud she was of herself.

Bellatrix remembered scolding her for such useless magic, that she might as well be a stupid Muggle.

The smallest of smiles crept to her face.

She remembered the rest of the night, holding her sobbing sister, apologizing profusely, holding each other as they fell asleep-

The scattered, blackened debris of the bear exploded over the house as she sent the curse toward it.

Bellatrix Black was not a sentimental woman.


	2. Reflection

Cygnus Black sat contentedly in his leather armchair, observing the scene before him.

He wasn't one for parties, but they were a reputation-booster for any respectable pure-blood family who intended to marry off their daughters to a man from an equally respectable pure-blood family, thus, he obliged to Druella's desires.

Amongst the crowded- although, massive in its own right-ballroom, Cygnus found Bellatrix. He watched as she entertained a group of men, among them, Rodulphus Lestrange, whom he and Druella had decided the most suitable pick for their eldest daughter. Her lips parted slowly, and a dark glint rose to her eyes as she laughed.

Cygnus always found himself listening intently to the laughter of his offspring, amazed at how it reflected who the three were as people.

Bella's was the perfect mixture of fire and ice. It crackled along the entire room, shocking any and all of it's listeners. Breathy and full of gravel, yet high-pitched. The most beautiful and terrible of cackles to ever be heard, much like Bellatrix herself. Yes, if there was any way to describe his eldest daughter, it was beautiful and terrible.

Cygnus then averted his gaze to his second daughter, Andromeda.

Meda. Undoubtedly less pretty than Bellatrix, however Andromeda's laugh was one of pure ecstasy. There was something about it, quiet and soft, yet so powerful and passionate. That was the essence of Andromeda. Always there. Always the perfectly imperfect middle.

Cygnus searched the room for his last daughter.

'Cissa. Her laughter exploded from her pale pink lips, a blinding white radiance surrounding herself, and everyone around her. Cygnus knew Narcissa believed she was the white sheep among black sheep, the angel. And she would simply be nothing more than that, Cygnus thought. He watched as she smiled and threw her head back, face glowing. It never reached her eyes. Those dark, dark eyes. One part of her would always be alone.

He smiled as he examined the three girls once again, perfect divisions of himself, and wondered why he could see nothing more than servants.

He wondered what it would be like to love them.


	3. Different

"You've got to be kidding me, 'Cissy."

Narcissa Black watched her two sisters primping in the mirror, Bellatrix's eyebrows raising in amusement, and Andromeda giving a small chuckle.

They had such beautiful dark features, such haunting gazes. Narcissa's face contorted with jealousy at the midnight black corsets and layered skirts plastered against their bodies.

Narcissa tiptoed hesitantly to the full length mirror, taking fistfuls of her snow white gown. She smoothed the creases in the chiffon and ran her fingers through her pale blonde hair, amazed at the contrast between her and her sisters.

They were darkness, she was light. They were sensuality, she was innocence.

"I'm not kidding, Bella. Can't I try one on?" she asked lightly.

"You'll look silly. You're much too pale. Too...pure." Bellatrix drawled, grinning as she and Andromeda left the room.

Narcissa shook her head, knowing it was all too true. But she couldn't help shuffling to Bellatrix's large wardrobe, picking a pure black long-sleeved thing, and pulling herself out of her white dress.

She closed her eyes as she stepped into her sister's gown, wiggling into the sleeves and tightly lacing the corset. When it was all done, she opened her eyes, expecting the worst.

The black against her milky white skin and light hair was strange, much too distinct, like her sisters said. But that's what it she liked about it. It was a contrast between the two.

She smiled radiantly as she left the room, making her way to the party downstairs.

Narcissa had never felt so beautiful.


End file.
